


Beyond the Green Lights

by etoilephilante



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, And guillotine for the king!, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Forbidden Love, I borrowed our solar system's planets' to name all the different kingdoms of this world, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Metaphors, Royalty, Secret Relationship, Servant!Yeosang, Woosan, aesthetic without plot, crowned princess!chungha, jongjoong, prince!seonghwa, yungi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilephilante/pseuds/etoilephilante
Summary: Seonghwa lost his playful smile, as Yeosang straightened himself up. He raised a hand to intertwine their fingers, leaving a lingering kiss on the servant’s gloved ones.“I have no obligation to accept anything yet, let’s not dwell on it,” the prince murmured against his lover’s hand.He heard a sigh coming from above.“But one day you will, and that day I will be the one ensuring that you look perfect for your wedding.”(Behind a bedroom's door or a thick curtain of pine trees, a prince and a servant are hiding from the pressure of a court that's expecting an incoming betrothal.)
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 24
Kudos: 103





	Beyond the Green Lights

**Author's Note:**

> it is i again, i have come back
> 
> storytime : my bestfriends gave me 10 words each to help my writing block and I was supposed to write something around 5k, gone wrong?
> 
> it has no major plot, it literally happened as I wrote! we're mostly here for the fairy tale aesthetic. and bc seongsang fit royal aus so well
> 
> last thing, this fic was called hoes before crowns the whole time i was writing it
> 
> I hope u enjoy this xoxo

*

_“Yeosang, you could make a king give up on his throne.”_

“ _Thankfully, I only want your eyes on me, Your Highness.”_

_Their lips crashed together, the two men falling in a mess of entangled limbs on the large bed, drinking from each other’s mouths, hands desperately gripping on soft hair, bodies creasing silky sheets, nails digging in reddening skin. Moans echoed against the four walls that hid them from the multitude of eyes in the palace; walls that sheltered them, while the prince knelt before his servant and worshiped him._

*

A lone ray of sunshine hitting the off-white paper, that his sister had laid before him on the massive ebony table, led his gaze to the figure standing straight near the closed curtains of the tall windows. Seonghwa swallowed with difficulty, gripping his quill pen tighter, when he noticed the way the thin thread of light filtering through the curtains, left slightly ajar, hit the side of the servant’s face, painting in gold his features otherwise hidden by the darkness of the room. He looked like a statue with his sharp jaw, his cute lips set in a straight line, his nose, prominent and yet round; the dust particles dancing in this single sunbeam looked like a sheer veil, as if to hide the beauty of the man from his curious eyes, as if to keep him from looking at the way the tip of the long and dark lashes adorning his downcast eyes were sparkling. Yeosang’s face didn’t move once, his expression never changed, but Seonghwa didn’t wait to notice a twitch on the corner of his mouth or a crease between his thin eyebrows to clear his voice, lowering his gaze back to the letter he had been writing.

“Can someone close the curtains better?” he enunciated with a courteous yet powerful voice, raising his hand as if to hide the sunlight, acting like he was the one bothered by it.

A maid rushed to the window, drawing the heavy and thick velvet curtains closer.

The pleasantly subdued atmosphere back in the library, the prince smiled to himself, wondering if the servant was more comfortable. Unable to hold himself back, he cast a glance at Yeosang and was met with unreadable brown pupils for a brief second, and then the latter diverted his eyes again before they got caught by any of the other servants standing still in the room, around Seonghwa and his sister.

When the prince turned his attention back to his paper, the crowned princess was looking straight at him, a teasing smirk on her lips. “My dear brother has such sensitive eyes,” Chungha cooed, putting her own quill pen down, and he felt heat creeping up his nape. “I’m feeling a bit hungry, I’m going to join lady Im for tea,” she announced, getting up, the ten or so servants around them bending in a bow, while Seonghwa was following her with his eyes. “Are you coming?”

“No, a few things are bothering me with the guestlist for the incoming banquet, I will stay behind and review it again," Seonghwa lied and Chungha raised a conniving eyebrow, chuckling.

“Prince Seonghwa might be better alone, let’s leave him behind,” she addressed the servants, and they followed her suit when she left, leaving only Seonghwa and his personal attendant in the library.

The peaceful silence peculiar to the royal family’s small and dusty library came back when the heavy doors closed behind the small procession, and it lasted a minute during which the prince pretended to read the list of names he had just grabbed, feeling the servant's gaze weighing upon him.

Seonghwa heard the sound of heels against the polished checkered black and white tiles as Yeosang came closer to the table and sat down across from him, where the crowned princess had been sitting just a moment before.

The prince expected his attendant to speak, but when the silence dragged on, he raised his curious eyes to meet mischief dancing in Yeosang’s gaze. The warm brown of his pupils had made his heart jump two years prior – the day the court of Mars had been celebrating his coming of age – and had never stopped ever since. That day his father had come back from a neighboring kingdom, a boy just a year younger than him in tow, his skin tanner than anyone in the court, his hands rugged and dirty, his clothes ragged and wonder shining in his eyes from where he was hiding behind the king’s large back.

“Will you stop pretending to read that paper, or should I act naive a bit longer, Your Highness?” the servant eventually said, tapping his nails on the dark wood of the table, his chin propped on his palm. The prince shivered, hearing the almost imperceptible yet sweet foreign accent that laced all of Yeosang’s words.

Seonghwa faked to think about it, rubbing the tip of his pointer finger against his cheek and looking up at the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“This banquet is of great importance, I’m only doing my duty ensuring it will be perfect,” he joked, and his attendant rolled his eyes, getting up to join him and stand behind him. Yeosang rested a hand on his shoulder, leaning above it to take the list from Seonghwa’s hands, nonchalantly throwing it on the table.

“A banquet because His Majesty wants you to marry.” His accent was stripped of its sweetness, replaced with a bitter tone.

Seonghwa lost his playful smile, as Yeosang straightened himself up. He raised a hand to intertwine their fingers, leaving a lingering kiss on the servant’s gloved ones.

“I have no obligation to accept anything yet, let’s not dwell on it,” the prince murmured against his lover’s hand.

He heard a sigh coming from above.

“But one day you will, and that day I will be the one ensuring that you look perfect for your wedding.”

Seonghwa’s heart plummeted to the bottom of his stomach. He twisted his body around his chair, wrapping his arms around Yeosang’s waist, and hiding his face in the thick dark blue fabric of the palace uniform, focusing his gaze on his long coat’s golden buttons. He wished to live in blissful ignorance.

“Not now,” he heard himself mutter, and he closed his eyes when he felt the softness of Yeosang’s white gloves against his cheek.

"Your Highness, you smudged ink on your skin," his attendant eventually changed the subject, a small smile on his lips. The prince blushed when he pinched his chin between his fingers, rubbing a pristine tissue on his skin.

The afternoon merged into the evening while they forgot about titles and status, sitting next to each other, their shoulders brushing as Seonghwa was reading to Yeosang.

*

_“Here is Yeosang, he will be trained to be your personal attendant._ ”

_Seonghwa had woken up early that day breathing in the petrichor’s fumes and shivering from the cool breeze coming from the balcony he had left open the night before. The court was never a quiet place, but an almost religious silence often reigned in the private royal quarters; this day, however, the young prince had felt the strange buzz that came with every big event the moment he opened his eyes._

_It wasn’t a surprise to be called to his father’s office, but it was to find him with a boy hiding behind his broad back._

_Yeosang. Yeosang whom a lord had offered to the king in honor of the youngest prince’s coming of age._

_Seonghwa didn't like the idea of being offered a man, liking carefully crafted daggers, luxurious capes, or even rare books better. Yet, he only gritted his teeth and inclined his head, meeting a curious glimmer shining behind wheat-colored strands of hair that made his heart skip._

_*_

Seonghwa inhaled and closed his eyes when he felt his lungs filling up with the fresh scent of pine trees, guessing by the smell the coldness of the river he heard flowing a few feet ahead. Opening his eyes again, he pulled on his horse's reins, nimbly getting off.

The forest was part of the royal family’s domain, and only a few had access to it. Seonghwa had always liked it, enjoying its peacefulness, the feeling of being all alone; and it wasn't a secret in the court, how the youngest prince would be riding his impressive white stallion there at least once a week, knowing better than to venture down the large pinewood surrounding the palace when Seonghwa had decided to go for a jaunt. And it was all his, most of the time, as noblemen and women preferred to take walks in the sumptuous gardens where rare and dazzling flowers bloomed.

It had been a habit of his to get lost in that never-ending forest, long before his father led him to the stables the day he had turned fourteen, showing him a newborn colt and telling him that it would become a mount worthy of a prince. For a few long years, the horse that Seonghwa had named Edelweiss became his only confidant and his sole companion during his strolls, and in turn, he was the only one who could mount the horse that had grown into a huge and feisty stallion.

He was sitting against a large and well-known tree, observing the way the light filtered through the thick curtains made of dark green leaves and pine needles, making small droplets – remnants of the drizzle that had been steadily falling the whole morning – glow like the forest had been sprinkled with diamonds.

He was watching Edelweiss nibble on grass when he heard soft steps rustling dried leaves that had fallen on the path. Seonghwa didn’t need to turn his head to know that Yeosang was the one approaching, and couldn’t help the way his heart’s pace picked up, even though the servant’s presence was expected.

When the prince had understood Yeosang nurtured the same feelings as he did, their fingers itching with a reciprocal longing, both unable to divert their eyes from each other, Seonghwa had taken his servant's hand, in the middle of the night, when Yeosang should have left already, and led him where he had never allowed anyone to follow him.

The forest was only used on hunting days, so hidden behind walls of trees, perhaps it was the only place where they were safe, where loving each other wouldn’t be punishable. An open-air shelter where nobody would ever come looking for them.

“Your Highness, all your clothes will get muddy,” was the first thing Yeosang said, furrowing his eyebrows down at him. Seonghwa sheepishly chuckled, looking up at his attendant, a little blinded by the halo a sunbeam hitting the back of his head made. He propelled himself up, catching Yeosang’s hand to pull him down on his lap, despite his protests.

“I promise to apologize to the maids,” Seonghwa laughed, burying his nose in Yeosang’s neck, and trapping him in a strong embrace, “on my knees even, for I am a very clumsy prince who fell off his horse.”

Yeosang hit him softly on the chest, pursing his lips to hide an amused smile, faking a displeased frown. "I wonder what all these noble people would say if they saw how dirty the beautiful and ice-cold prince they love to kiss up is," he drawled, grabbing the collar of Seonghwa's shirt.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You love to be the only one who gets to see me like this."

The attendant hummed, mischief replacing his pretend annoyance. “I do love to see Your Highness all dirty,” he winked, tugging on the prince’s collar and pecking the corner of his lips. Seonghwa sighed, and tightened his arms around Yeosang’s back, running his fingers along the curve of his spine, pressing the smaller man against him.

“Please, say my name,” the prince asked, looking up to meet the servant’s eyes.

“Seonghwa," Yeosang breathed out with a fond smile, and Seonghwa closed his eyes a few seconds, feeling a lump in his throat swell up. "Seonghwa, Seonghwa," he continued, cupping the elder's face between his palms, punctuating each time he called the prince's name with a kiss. "Seonghwa."

In between the palace’s confines, it was unthinkable for Yeosang to pronounce his name. It was why in that forest that meant freedom to Seonghwa at first, became freedom for them both – separately and together – then. Sitting at the roots of this high pine tree, surrounded by the smell of the morning rain and the river, there was no _Your Highness_ , no prince, and no servant, only Seonghwa and Yeosang.

Seonghwa couldn’t resist the urge to catch Yeosang’s lips between his, cutting him off and swallowing the second syllable of his name. Yeosang snorted against his mouth, before kissing him back. The prince’s guts filled with warmth, reveling in the loving touch of his lover on his cheeks, neck, behind his ears; feeling like all his worries were being kissed away.

When they parted, Yeosang left one last kiss right between his eyebrows. "I love you," he muttered against his skin – Seonghwa wished he could forget the small tremble in his masculine voice, that sounded like fear and desperation, he wished he could erase that fear and desperation from his mind.

“I love you, too,” the prince whispered, placing his hands on Yeosang’s cheeks and forcing him to look at him in the eyes, “you know it, right?”

Yeosang only answered with a sad, unconvinced smile. Seonghwa felt himself ache, unfortunately not surprised at that silent denial. He straightened them, turning their bodies to face the tree's trunk, revealing foreign letters carved in the bark. Yeosang gripped Seonghwa's shoulder with one hand and brought the tip of his other hand's fingers on the letters.

“ _My soul is yours_ ," the prince read or rather remembered. "You taught me how to write it in your language. This tree, all the trees here are older than the both of us, and they'll continue to stand here, steady, much longer than we could ever wish to live."

“And as long as this tree will continue to stand here, steady, your soul will only be mine,” Yeosang said, recalling the words the prince had uttered when he had carved with his dagger an alphabet that belonged to a foreign kingdom.

Seonghwa took Yeosang's hand in his, thankful the servant wasn't wearing his mandatory gloves and kissed his palm. He loved to feel his skin against his, loving even the way they were rugged by work; Yeosang couldn't even touch him with his bare hands when they weren't hiding in the depth of the pine woods or behind the locked doors of Seonghwa’s private apartment.

They both startled when Edelweiss loudly neighed, obviously getting bored. Yeosang chuckled, getting up and he walked up to the horse, petting his crane. Seonghwa simply watched, still amazed at the ease with which his lover communicated with the stallion, who had refused almost everyone’s touch but his ever since he was a colt.

Yeosang had been apprehensive, the first time the prince had taken him here, and introduced him to Edelweiss, scared of the huge horse that greatly dominated their heights. In the end, when Seonghwa had led Yeosang’s shaky hands between the stallion’s eyes, his chest pressed against the servant’s back, an arm wrapped his waist, Edelweiss had only impatiently sighed, easily accepting the newcomer.

“Let’s go for a ride?” the prince suggested, getting up and joining them.

Yeosang grinned and when he had hopped up on the saddle, extending his hand for Yeosang to take it, propelling him up to sit behind him with ease, the servant enthusiastically wrapped his arms around the prince’s waist.

When they came back at the edge of the forest, the palace rising on the horizon, their hair rustled by the speed at which Seonghwa had let the stallion gallop, the prince could feel the way Yeosang was smiling against his back. The night was falling on the kingdom, the evening bringing a cold wind with it, and yet Seonghwa felt incredibly warm with Yeosang's arm tightly embracing him, pressed against him.

He stopped Edelweiss, and they stayed silent for a few seconds.

“I don’t want to go back,” Seonghwa eventually murmured, unsure if Yeosang could hear him. After a floating moment, his attendant briefly tightened his clasp and then reached a hand to grab the prince’s where he was holding the horse’s reins – they both didn’t want to go back to their assigned status that made them so close and yet so distant.

“I’ll read to you tonight, Seonghwa,” Yeosang only said, and the prince heard what he left unsaid. They had no choice, but even inside this golden jail the palace was to them both and despite how far from each other their titles made them, they would find a way, like they always did.

Seonghwa sighed and then hummed. His attendant easily jumped off the horse's back and looked up at his prince. "Let's go back, Your Highness."

And they were back in their assigned spots, walking to the palace, the elder sitting straight on the saddle, his attendant by foot, his hands respectfully joined behind his back.

They reached the small lake that separated the royal woods from the fields that were used to either train the royal guards, the military, or their horses. Seonghwa was closely watching Yeosang cheerfully walk on the edge of the lake, a fond smile on his lips, loving the sound of his deep voice, laced with foreign stress on some of his words.

He was brought back to reality when Yeosang discreetly came back closer to his side with a neutral face, and only then he heard the sound of hooves that weren't coming from Edelweiss. When he raised his head, a group of noblemen was coming ahead, and Seonghwa pulled on his stallion's reins to stop him.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” echoed in the field, when the group of men had reached Seonghwa and Yeosang.

The prince gave them the smile that had brought him the reputation of a distant and cold prince, polite but secretive, not letting any of his surprise or annoyance show on his face. “Good evening, lords.”

“Is His Highness going back to the palace?” Lord Im was the head of the group, sitting with grace and presence on his dark horse; he was also the heir of one of the biggest duchy of their kingdom. Seonghwa nodded at him. "Then allow us to join you," the Lord said, and Seonghwa inwardly sighed, casting a glance to his attendant, who was standing still by Edelweiss, an imperceptible frown creasing his thin eyebrows.

“Of course, lead the way,” the prince eventually answered courteously, gracefully waving his hands in front of him.

Seonghwa wasn’t one to be talkative, settling with replying whenever someone spoke to him and otherwise staying quiet, so a few awkward minutes passed by during which only the noise of hooves against the ground could be heard, while he kept his back straight and his head high, trying to ignore the murmurs of Lord Im’s party behind them a few meters behind – and Seonghwa felt even more uncomfortable knowing they did this to give both men some intimacy.

He quickly looked down at Yeosang, still walking next to them with a neutral face – Seonghwa wished they would have had more time to fall back into their roles, he missed already the laid back laughter that had shaken his attendant while they had been walking along the lake, earlier.

“I’ve heard about the banquet that will be held soon,” the other man said, bringing the prince’s attention back on him. “I hope His Highness will give me the favor of a dance,” he smiled, and Seonghwa felt a shiver of disgust spread through his spine as he smiled back.

“Lord Im would be very embarrassed to dance with me, you see, to my ballroom dance teacher’s great sadness, I have not yet mastered the way not to step on my partners’ feet,” Seonghwa politely joked, to answer something that wasn’t a straight refusal – which couldn’t be good for diplomacy – nor approval – since he had no intention on dancing with any suitor, thus giving the impression that he was considering marriage.

“To have His Highness step on my feet would be an honor,” Lord Im bantered back, making the prince laugh, but respectfully accepted the lack of clear answer from him.

On the whole way back, Lord Im kept the conversation flowing, and Seonghwa found himself appreciating his way with words, thinking for himself that the man would probably be a charismatic diplomat and great ally. Perhaps should he recommend him for the council, he mulled while the other man was retelling some anecdote.

Eventually, they reached the stables and to Seonghwa’s relief, this impromptu meeting with a potential suitor was coming to an end.

“I hope Lord Im and his party will find pleasure in their stay at the court," the prince said while getting off his stallion and handing the reins to Yeosang, hoping to meet his withdrawn gaze like so, but his attendant kept his head bowed, before turning back to lead Edelweiss away, seemingly whispering something to the horse. "I'm looking forward to your presence at the incoming banquet."

Yeosang stayed quiet even after they parted with Lord Im and his party. Seonghwa kept his gaze straight ahead, as he strode into his apartment, his attendant following close behind. He was left alone in his room a few minutes, pacing back and forth and worrying about the withdrawn look he had noticed on Yeosang’s face on their way back.

When the attendant entered the room, his eyes were still downcast. The prince stood still in the middle of the bedroom, silently watching his lover approach. Neither of them wanted to be the one speaking first – Seonghwa taking his time to understand the feelings moving his lover’s features, while Yeosang had retreated into silence. However, it was Yeosang who broke the silence, as his role forced him.

“Your Highness, I hope your outing has been pleasant, please allow me to help you change into something more appropriate, His Majesty the king has requested your presence for dinner,” the servant said with an even voice, his head lowered and his shoulders tense.

Seonghwa felt a lump grow in his throat, his insides churning with the anxiety that his lover’s tone brought to him – he knew he had no choice but to address him like so, yet with the barely concealed anger in Yeosang’s usually soft brown pupils, the distance between them felt even more suffocating. He nodded with a choked hum to allow Yeosang to undress him of his muddy clothes, noticing how his hands that he loved to kiss so much were once again covered. The prince clenched his fist as if it would muffle down the numbing pain he felt when his personal attendant knelt, undoing his boots first. Seonghwa couldn't even get himself to look at him.

He blinked when he felt the velvet touch of the servant’s gloves on his collar, unbuttoning his thick and luxurious coat. Yeosang was physically so close, Seonghwa knew he could just lower his eyes and count the servant's lashes, or look at the way the pink birthmark on his cheekbones nicely contrasted with his tan skin; instead, he kept his gaze straight ahead, settling with picturing in his mind these small details of his lover's face that had made him fall in love devastatingly fast.

“You look in quite the sour mood,” the prince mumbled, surprising himself with how hoarse his voice sounded. Yeosang didn’t raise his gaze, focused on his task.

“Please, do not worry about this lowly servant, Your Highness,” he only answered, his polite tone hiding a bit of venom that Seonghwa only knew to recognize because he knew every corner of Yeosang’s soul.

Seonghwa sighed, briefly shutting his eyelids. “Yeosang,” he murmured, keeping his voice low knowing that the maids would come to get his dirty clothes at any moment, "what's bothering you?"

The servant paused, his fingers gripping the hems of Seonghwa’s shirt. He raised a dark glare at the prince, while finally removing this last piece of clothing. The prince stood in all his glory with only thin inner clothes, his slender figure towering over the smaller man, and yet he suddenly felt like he was nothing when he saw the storm raging in his lover’s eyes, and most of all, the sorrow behind it.

Seonghwa was about to speak again when a knock cut him off and the door opened to let in a young maid. Yeosang stepped away, folding the discarded clothes, handing them to the small girl, who was silently waiting with her head down by the doors.

Only when the doors closed behind her again, the prince broke the silence. "Will anyone else come in?" he simply asked, watching Yeosang's unmoving figure and the way the servant's hair curled on his nape.

“Only I am assigned to you the remaining time before dinner,” Yeosang muttered softly, and it was the only thing Seonghwa needed to hear before taking quick strides and engulf his lover in his arms, rubbing his nose in the crook of Yeosang’s neck.

And suddenly Yeosang’s knees seemed to buckle and all the tension in his body left him, while Seonghwa held him up against his chest, clenching his jaw when he felt more than he heard the sob that shook the other man. “This man, this lord,” the servant stammered, the overwhelming feelings that had washed over him making his foreign accent stronger, “how can you be this friendly with him? Why? Why do I have to watch this?”

The prince squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his clasp around his lover, leaving a calming kiss on the back of Yeosang’s head, before resting his forehead against it. He knew, as much as Yeosang knew it, that this anger was unfair, but he couldn’t help but understand it. He knew that if he felt trapped into this situation, that he couldn’t do anything to keep suitors away and that one day he would have to choose one of them to marry, Yeosang was in much more pain, when he couldn't even touch him with his bare hands – he was helpless and powerless when he had to watch Seonghwa be courteous with people who were more likely than him to eventually share the same bed with his lover, for the rest of their lives.

“I'm sorry," the prince murmured, against Yeosang's wheat-colored strands. The servant turned around in his arms, his cheeks and lashes wet, and wrapped strong arms around the elder's neck, hiding his face in Seonghwa's bare chest.

“I don't want to lose you," Yeosang muttered against his collarbones, and the prince kissed the shell of his ear. "But I know I will, I can't help but think about it. I can't ignore it anymore."

Seonghwa had nothing to answer – there wasn't any solution, and he was just as helpless. After all, prince Seonghwa had no power, his role in the kingdom was to marry someone who would expand their lands, their wealth since he couldn’t inherit the throne. It was his only duty. He swallowed, cupping Yeosang’s face to look at him.

They kissed, tenderly, showing their affection towards each other, because they couldn't do anything else than make the most of the time they had left – it could be a few months or a few years at best, they had no way of knowing. Yeosang grasped at his naked shoulders when Seonghwa grazed his tongue over his bottom lip – and suddenly they were mad with hunger for each other, desperation and uncertainty gnawing away at them, making their skin crawl, making thunder rumble in their stomachs, making them unable to let each other go.

They parted when Seonghwa grabbed Yeosang’s wrists, rushing to discard these white gloves he despised.

"I need to get you ready," Yeosang whispered against the corner of the prince's mouth, his protest contradicting the way he dug his nails into the smooth and fair skin of Seonghwa's back, once his fingers were free. "And we could get caught anytime…"

The prince knew these words were useless, that Yeosang muttered them to convince himself more than to stop him, and he was proved right by the way his personal attendant bit the skin at the base of his neck, sucking on it and drawing a weak mewl out of him.

“It’s okay if I’m late, I just need to feel you now,” Seonghwa breathed out, his unfocused eyes raised at the immaculate ceiling.

Later, when the prince was silently sitting in front of his sister, only half-listening to his father, he was well aware that nothing had been solved, yet as the thick embroideries of his collar pressed against the bruise Yeosang had left on his neck, he felt like he could breathe despite the distance between them.

*

_Yeosang and Seonghwa were sitting on the soft carpet at the feet of the prince’s bed. The servant was tracing with the tip of his fingers the pattern on the tapestry, while the prince was reading. The room was only lit by a few candles on the heavy and polished furniture next to the bed, the balcony left open and letting a gentle summer breeze into the room._

_Yeosang should have been gone for an hour already, right after Seonghwa had been undressed of his beautifully tailored clothes and bathed, but a few weeks before the prince had caught his attendant eyeing the many books on the large shelves on his walls. “Do you want to read one?” he had asked, curious._

“ _Ah, I can’t, Your Highness, I don’t know your alphabet,” the servant had politely bowed, waiting for Seonghwa’s signal that he may leave._

_However that night, the young prince had fidgeted a little and then, feeling emboldened by the past few months spent together secretly getting closer, he had grabbed Yeosang’s hand. The servant had flinched, used not to be allowed to have unnecessary contacts with the prince, and the latter had apologetically winced. “Would you stay a bit more? I’ll teach you how to read.”_

_The servant had blinked at him, stunned. “I’m not allowed to…”_

_"You are if I'm the one asking. Nobody has to know, please?"_

_Seonghwa had been surprised at his own desperation, red spreading on his cheeks as he watched hesitation flicker on Yeosang’s face. That was how they found themselves hours after everyone had gone to sleep, the prince showing his alphabet to Yeosang and with every passing evening, sitting a bit closer._

“ _Why did you stop reading?” the servant asked, turning his head to Seonghwa, his cheek resting on his knees that he had brought to his chest. Seonghwa blinked, coming back to the present, his tongue burning with a question that he had never known if he was allowed to ask._

“ _Where are you from?” he asked eventually, softly closing the book._

“ _The kingdom of Pluto, I was taken to your kingdom when my parents died,” the servant answered, his tone even and no trace of sadness in his eyes; but Seonghwa lowered his eyes, his heart aching with the pieces of information he started collecting about his attendant. The almost imperceptible foreign accent whenever he talked, the fact he talked their language perfectly, and yet had never been taught how to read it._

“ _Are… are you happy here? Would you like to gain your freedom back and go to your country?" Hesitation punctuated each one of his words. For a reason Seonghwa was scared to fully understand, he was apprehensive to hear that Yeosang could be wanting to leave._

“ _Your Highness, what kind of worries do you have? I am at your service forever,” was however what the prince’s personal attendant answered, lightly chuckling. “You’ve been treating me with much more gentleness than my previous master and… it has been such a long time since I’ve last seen Pluto, Mars is now my home.”_

_Seonghwa licked his lips, carefully watching the way the candles’ lights made Yeosang look like a statue of gold, his curls falling on his tan skin and caressing these cheeks of his that suddenly the prince felt very curious about – how would it feel to kiss them? To touch them with the tip of his fingers?_

_He lowered his eyes to the book, praying that his heart wasn’t so loud that the servant could hear it, and he cleared his throat. “Shall we resume our reading?”_

_*_

The large salon was filled with a pleasant and peaceful atmosphere.

Seonghwa was circling with the tip of his finger the rim of his crystal glass, leaning against the frame of a tall window, feeling the way a sweet fuzziness had taken over his tired mind – a side of effect of the delectable plum wine he had been sipping for a few hours now. At the center of the room, Hongjoong was playing a soft melody at the elegant ebony piano, that the prince was absentmindedly listening to, with his unfocused black eyes staring beyond the window. The lords and ladies leisurely sitting around the musician on the colorful and flower-patterned lounge furniture, were chatting with low-voices, or fanning themselves with extravagant fans, their eyes closed to properly let themselves be lulled into a dreamy state by Hongjoong's music.

Soft and drunken afternoons like this one were usual at the court, where the elites met in luxurious and bright salons to unwind as if most of them didn't spend entire days just enjoying their own wealth. From where Seonghwa was standing, a bit isolated from the crowd, letting his dazed pupils wander on the expanse of the beautiful royal gardens, watching without really paying attention the way a few ladies made their lace parasols spin above their shoulders – the prince's drunken mind imagined that they were giant multicolored flowers that had come to life to dance in the middle of this magical green grass parterre that had suddenly become a ballroom floor.

He didn’t notice when Hongjoong stopped playing, a strict looking duchess taking his seat at the center of the room to read a few poetry lines out loud, and jumped when someone whispered next to his ear.

“You’ve been quite distant, today.”

Seonghwa turned around, rapidly blinking and almost dropping his wine glass. “Oh, Hongjoong, you scared me.”

The musician was a close friend to the prince, since childhood. They rarely saw each other, perhaps only twice a year, since the death of Hongjoong’s father, lord of a small county near the court, leaving him with a heritage big enough to wander where he wanted with his newly found freedom.

“You usually at least hide your boredom, what happened to the courteous prince all nine kingdoms are fawning over?” Hongjoong joked, handing him a small plate with a neat pile of black chocolate. Seonghwa smiled tiredly at him, accepting with relief the chocolate – Hongjoong had always known about this guilty pleasure of his.

Instead of answering, he took one of the chocolates to his mouth and sighed when he felt it melt against his tongue.

“So you’re really going to ignore me like so,” Hongjoong quietly laughed, discreetly elbowing the prince. He also leaned against the window’s frame, facing Seonghwa, and watched him closely with a raised eyebrow. “What has you looking so gloomy, Seonghwa?” he insisted.

“I've always looked gloomy, it's one of my most popular traits," Seonghwa said, sarcastic and rolling his eyes and then turning them towards the garden once again. The musician scoffed, blowing a few of his dark strands out of his eyes.

“The last few times we saw each other, you looked happy, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong affirmed with a low voice, sounding more serious.

The prince brought another piece of chocolate to his lips, taking his time to savor it, and then sipped on his sweet alcohol, appreciating the way it tasted bittersweet together.

“I’m in love,” the prince eventually admitted in a murmur, casting a quick anxious glance towards the crowd to make sure they were still quite isolated – fortunately, nobody was paying attention to them. When he looked back at his friend, Hongjoong seemed to have followed his gaze and understood.

“It’s a secret, isn’t it?” Hongjoong chuckled, and Seonghwa hummed.

The prince swallowed the last piece of chocolate and gulped down the remaining of his drink. “Would you accompany this pitiful prince on a sobering walk in the garden?” Seonghwa asked eventually, and Hongjoong winked at him.

“Will you tell me who stole your heart, now?" the musician said, wiggling his eyebrows at the prince with a grin. His friend had offered the prince his arm to support him – it wouldn't do any good if anyone in the palace noticed Seonghwa's tipsiness –, and they were now walking inside the pleasant labyrinth in the heart of the royal garden, the tall bush walls casting a cool shadow upon them and protecting them from the sight – and the further they progressed into the labyrinth, the ears – of anyone else.

“He… Whenever I look at him, I think he should be the one sitting on the throne," Seonghwa breathed out, vaguely conscious of how he sounded like he was exaggerating, yet he did fully believe his own statement. Hongjoong snorted ungracefully and led them to the marble bench under the huge willow that was standing tall at the center of the labyrinth.

"I imagine this man is the one who made you look happier than you had ever had, these past few years," Hongjoong nodded, looking up at the way the light filtered through the tree's bright leaves, letting through a few sunbeams that warmed their skins a little. "But how come you look so forlorn, again?"

“My father… wishes for me to marry.”

“Then, marry him.”

Seonghwa then looked sadly at Hongjoong and gave him a resigned smile. Hongjoong seemed to understand at that moment that if Seonghwa could, he would. "We already knew it wouldn't be possible, ever, but… but it's so different to wake up one day, and really realize it."

The musician hummed understandingly. “And naturally, anxiety is taking over bliss,” he said, with a knowing smile. And he did know, having been engaged with someone he couldn’t bring himself to love.

“He says he can’t stop thinking about it now, and I don’t know how to make him forget when I can’t myself.”

Hongjoong put his hand over Seonghwa’s where he had been gripping the edge of the stone bench, and squeeze it. It was when the prince sniffled, that he noticed that his eyes had become damp. He blinked the tears away from his rimmed red eyes a few times.

“I’m sorry, I was acting improperly,” the prince whispered, once he regained his composure, but a lump at the base of his throat still choking him. Hongjoong was still rubbing the back of his hand with his palm and slightly bumped their shoulders together.

“Act however you want with me, you know that.”

Seonghwa gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you, I needed to talk about it with someone… I needed to make sure that once there's no turning back, Yeosang and I won't be the only ones living with this secret."

Hongjoong widened his eyes and gasped a little. “Wait, it’s Yeosang? Your attendant? What a scandal,” he said hurriedly and looking stunned, and Seonghwa felt a blush spread on his cheeks at his drunken slip-up, but he nodded. “He is indeed as beautiful as a prince,” Hongjoong finally concluded, with a wink that made the prince splutter.

“Hongjoong, please, stop saying nonsense. Tell me more about yourself, is the singer you were talking about in your last letters still the one who _makes your heart race as if you had climbed three mountains at least_ ,” Seonghwa quoted to divert Hongjoong’s attention, his cheekbones remaining a little pink, but satisfied to see his friend stammering, just as embarrassed as he was.

“His name is Jongho…”

Protected by a fortress made of the labyrinth's tall green walls and a shield made of the willow’s long and drooping branches, alone in a comfortable and freeing bubble that smelled like wood and flowers, Seonghwa found comfort in his trusted friend.

“You have everything, and he has nothing, give him something for him to hold onto… everyone loves a present,” was Hongjoong’s last piece of advice when they parted ways to go back in their apartments.

When Seonghwa stepped into his private room a few palace servants were still working around his room, as he had perhaps come back from the salon a little earlier than usual. Yeosang, who had been giving instructions to the maids, was the first to notice his entrance and clapped twice to attract the servants’ attention and they gathered around him. “Greetings, Your highness,” they all said in chorus, their voices even and respectfully bowing.

“You may all leave, expect for Yeosang,” Seonghwa dismissed the servants, walking towards the imposing velvet armchair a bit further into the large bedroom, resting his elbow on the chair’s armrest to support his forehead with his palm.

It was only once the prince was seated, that the few servants straightened and discreetly left the room, leaving Yeosang alone by the fluffy and orderly bed.

Seonghwa had closed his eyes, feeling himself dangerously succumb to an alcohol-induced slumber, but was aware of the sound of steps and the clinking of glass not so far from him. Yeosang approached after a moment, putting his gloved hand against Seonghwa’s nape. “You drank too much again, hm?” he softly said, and the prince looked up to see that he was holding a glass of water for him. He quietly thanked Yeosang, taking the glass and drinking it entirely before turning his attention to the servant. Leaving the glass on the small wooden stand next to his armchair, he wrapped an arm around Yeosang’s waist and hid his face against the front of Yeosang’s uniform.

"People will only talk more if you request my sole presence, you're doing it so often, now," Yeosang said, his voice as always sweet to the ear, with its deep tone but yet soft cotton-like timbre. Seonghwa mulled over the thought that it sounded just like dark chocolate tasted. “Your Highness?”

The prince blinked his eyes open, noticing he had started to fall asleep against Yeosang’s stomach.

“Hm, what were you saying?”

Yeosang sighed and laughed a little. “That you are becoming more reckless, the other servants will talk so much more,” he said, cupping the prince’s face where it was leaning on his stomach with the hand that wasn’t playing with his hair in his neck, rubbing the white cotton of his gloved thumb against his cheekbone. “The maids interrogated me the whole day to know why you only want me by your side, now.”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa said, smiling sweetly at Yeosang with a guilty look, “I was careless, will you forgive me?”

Yeosang tried to keep up a fake scolding frown, but at the sight of the prince’s jutted lips in a childish pout, he couldn’t help but lean forward to leave a chaste kiss on Seonghwa’s forehead. Seonghwa knew he had been paying less and less attention, he knew he was right, perhaps had he been blinded by the idea that their time was slowly coming to an end. They locked eyes, a fond and loving glimmer lighting their irises, and Yeosang leaned down again to peck him on the mouth.

“The maids prepared a bath since they predicted you would have been drinking at the salon," Yeosang informed him, raising himself, and extending his hand out. "Your Highness, please allow me to remove these gloves and bathe you."

The prince revealed his perfectly aligned and white teeth in a grin that few had the pleasure to witness, and took Yeosang’s hand, simply nodding as an answer.

The bathroom was luminous, and the heat that engulfed them when they passed the door, along with the strong scent of essential oils, emptied his lungs, and it was like the worries already made dormant by alcohol in the back of his mind, entirely faded away. He contentedly sighed.

The room was a paradise of comforting odors, from the charming one of the diverse powders and balms left in the cabinet near a marble sink, to the pleasurable one of bottles of otherworldly perfumes that had been gifted to him, or the clean and refreshing one of soap bars. The prince loved baths, loved to close his eyes, let his day be washed away from his every pores by scorching hot water.

Yeosang undressed Seonghwa of his tailored three-piece suit, sometimes leaving discreet and fleeting kisses on the skin he was slowly revealing to himself as he did so. As usual, it was Seonghwa who discarded with impatience the servant’s gloves.

The prince almost fell asleep again when Yeosang started delicately pouring the clear liquid over his hair, sitting behind him while he was lying against the bathtub’s marble edge, his eyes closed. "Do you remember when you told me about the green lights?" Seonghwa slurred, all his attention focused on the feeling of his attendant's fingers untangling his soaked locks and brushing them back, massaging his scalp, thus finishing to relax his every muscle.

Yeosang hummed, and the prince sleepily beamed, hearing the smile in Yeosang’s voice. “They illuminate the small and cold kingdom of Pluto in the most impressive fluorescent sky,” his attendant said, leaving the prince’s dark hair alone, and pushing his chin up with a gentle finger to make him rest the back of his head against the bathtub and to have access to his face. “Do you want to hear about them again, Your Highness?” he asked despite knowing very well what his answer would be while washing Seonghwa’s face with a tissue saturated with rose water.

“Please do so, Yeosang…” he murmured, making the person of interest shiver with the way his name rolled on the prince’s tongue, sweet and full of love.

“Then keep your eyes closed, because if I can’t take you to see them in person, I will take the both of us farther than anyone can follow us to see the green lights in your mind.” Yeosang’s unique stress on his words always reminded Seonghwa of these lights his attendant had once wished to take him and show him one of his last memories from his maternal country. “The cold is biting in Pluto, you have to cover your entire body inside layers and layers to feel warm,” Yeosang said sneaking his hand to Seonghwa’s shoulders, grazing his throat with the tip of his fingers and making him shiver. “Sometimes during the night, usually so dark, it happens that the fireplaces inside the houses of the few villages of our small kingdom aren’t the only lights anymore. I remember the elders of my family told me that these fluorescent lights are the beautiful rewards from Gods to us, for still loving our cold lands, despite the hardships…” The attendant paused to kiss Seonghwa’s temple. “They’re mostly green, and make the blue sky look purple. They reflect in frozen lakes, and when I was a little child, so small you wouldn’t even have seen me if you didn’t lower your gaze, I remember wondering where was the ground and where was the sky.”

Yeosang’s story sounded as magical, as improbable and as dreamy as the naive fairy tales that were read to children before bed; it was perhaps because of the innocence of a story from his lover’s childhood, or because of the hope it brought to him, that Seonghwa loved to hear about it, even if he knew Yeosang’s words by heart. “How are they called?” the prince asked, as he always did, with a quiet and hoarse from peacefulness voice.

“Aurora.”

Seonghwa beamed, his lids still shut, when his attendant mouthed the phenomenon’s name against his cheekbone. “Thank you.”

The moment’s stillness was broken by Yeosang’s deep giggle, and the prince pictured very well how he covered his mouth to hide his laughter, which eventually made him laugh as well.

He opened his eyes, taking a few seconds to get used to the bathroom’s luminosity, rapidly blinking, and then he riveted his pupils to Yeosang’s face, hovering above his. His eyes were crinkled, two sparkly crescents, and a few strands of hair were sticking to his pink birthmark right at the corner of his eye, probably due to the heat steaming from the bath.

He was beautiful, he was breathtaking.

So, Seonghwa got up in his bath, the water rustling around him, and dripping down his slim but strong body, his skin glistening with the perfumed oils that had been mixed in the water. His soaked black hair pushed back revealed his forehead, and his features, usually made soft by silky locks covering his eyebrows, looked sharper than ever. He turned around in all his naked glory, facing Yeosang who was still crouching, his uniform's dark blue jacket off, leaving him in a simple waistcoat above the rough fabric of his white shirt, his sleeves rolled up, as his hands were still lightly dipping in the bathwater. Their eyes locked, and Seonghwa smirked when he took note of the blush that started to spread on his lover's surprised face. He leaned forward, taking Yeosang's hands in his and forced him up.

“Allow me to be reckless a little more,” the prince muttered sensually against Yeosang’s lips, making the latter’s eyes flutter shut as he felt Seonghwa’s breath against his mouth, teasing him with something that almost felt like a kiss but wasn’t one yet. Shivering when Seonghwa’s arm sneaked around his waist and brought their bodies so close he could feel his lover’s desire against his thigh.

“Your highness,” the attendant breathed out, tilting his head backward, leaving his throat open for the prince’s lips, “you can’t wet my clothes, people will really get suspicious.”

Seonghwa chuckled against Yeosang’s flesh. “Then, would you allow me to undress you?”

“Please, Your Highness.”

The prince made a quick job of undoing his attendant uniform, his fingers trembling around the dozen of small buttons that suddenly seemed like they had doubled in number, making Yeosang burst out in cheerful laughter when Seonghwa groaned in dissatisfaction against his chest while struggling on the last buttons. Once Yeosang's clothes were eventually discarded at a safe distance from the water, Seonghwa took a step back in the steaming bath, his attendant’s hands in his, and Yeosang stepped inside the warm water, overtaken by goosebumps at the temperature shock that almost burned his calves – but also as he watched the prince’s eyes, darkened with lust, roam on his body.

Yeosang was broader, even though smaller than Seonghwa, his arms strong, and his thighs thick with muscles, he was firm and beautiful. The attendant was the one to stop him from staring with a devouring kiss, putting a hand on the prince’s shoulder and rubbing his thumb against his collarbone, while resting his other one on his hip, tickling the part where his hipbone was protruding under his flesh.

No one other than them needed to know how prince Seonghwa washed with worshiping hands his lover’s golden skin, knelt before him and kissed his knees, and then let his mouth wander in unspeakable place. No one other than them needed to know how Yeosang, a simple servant, carved red marks inside his lover’s pure flesh, bit his lips, touched with his rugged hands deemed unworthy places destined to a spouse, and rendered him the most vulnerable.

The day after, Seonghwa had claimed to only need his personal guard for a visit in the capital, and along with Hongjoong, and surprisingly his sister, he hopped in an elegant coach, which would surely not go unnoticed, with the royal crest carefully painted in the kingdom of Mars’s colors on the car’s door. Hongjoong had whistled when he had seen the coachman wait by the carriage, turning a critical eye towards Seonghwa.

“I thought we were supposed to be careful, not to raise suspicions.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, crossing his arms under his heavy indigo cape. “Somehow, my sister heard that I was going out in the capital today and decided to come uninvited, and said that we should pay an official visit to the people.”

The musician snorted at the prince’s sulky behavior. “Don’t be so irritated, I’m sure the people will be happy if you listen to their concerns a little bit,” he said, and then extended an arm for the crowned princess, once she eventually showed up at the palace’s front stairs, wearing a comfortable but beautifully embroidered dress, her shoulders covered with a similar cape as her brother’s. Chungha and Seonghwa did look like a pair of twins – the only drastic difference between them being the frown on the prince’s face, that contrasted greatly with the princess’s cheerful grin.

“Seonghwa told me you met a lot of people during your trip,” Chungha said after the horses set off at a trot. “So… what is his name?” she asked, a curious glint shining in his wide eyes, making a small blush appear on Hongjoong’s cheeks.

Seonghwa was still moodily silent, staring through the window, while his mind was in shambles, trying to think of a way he could possibly ditch his sister to go with Hongjoong at the jeweler’s like was originally planned.

Hongjoong softly beamed at the crowned princess, crossing his fingers on his lap as if to hide his excitement. “I guess Seonghwa has already told Your Highness that Jongho was the main singer of the opera concert I happened to attend in Jupiter.” Chungha’s grin grew wider and the prince stopped listening to them, redirecting his entire focus to the ring he was twisted around his finger.

The ride to the capital wasn’t long, and soon enough the only royal guard they had bought with them opened the door to help the siblings out. They had gotten off in the city center, the streets were crowded due to the numerous shops that could be found in this part of the capital. Seonghwa felt the corner of his mouth twitch when he noticed the passersby’s curious and full of wonders eyes turned towards them. Hiding his annoyance behind a polite smile, he faced his sister, giving her his arm as he knew was expected of him during public outings – Chungha was their future queen before being the sister that had ruined his plans.

Seonghwa heard Hongjoong’s laughter behind him and kept himself from turning around to glare at him, feeling like the musician was indeed laughing at his misery.

“Let’s go inside that bookshop,” the crown princess suggested, lightly tugging on Seonghwa’s arm and he held back a sigh, following along.

They visited multiple small shops, talking to the owners, praising their works, buying their crafts. Even if Seonghwa was known to all as a much more distant prince than the friendly princess, Chungha and her brother were doing an equally good job at pleasing the people they met on their way. At some point, before entering yet another shop, Seonghwa stopped and discreetly leaned towards Hongjoong after he noticed that the jeweler’s he had originally wanted to go to was near.

“Can you go see if that Jeweler called San is in his shop?” He asked in a low voice and Hongjoong winked at him, before Seonghwa turned back to his sister, who was staring at him with a mysterious look, that the prince pretended not to notice.

The shop they visited next was owned by a painter. They wandered a little, looking through the artworks exposed, when suddenly a painting caught Seonghwa’s eyes. It was a large one, a night sky, and snow-capped field, but what was the most surprising about the sky in the picture was its colors, as if the painter had accidentally blended a bright green into blue and purple. Seonghwa wondered if this was one of those nights in the kingdom of Pluto.

“Has this painting caught your eyes?” Chungha suddenly asked, making him jump a little and shattering in daydreams. He looked at her surprised, blinking three times before he managed to process the question.

“Not really, I was curious about the pigments, the colors are impressive,” Seonghwa answered, more to the seller than to his sister, concealing his inner turmoil with his usual polite smile. Then leading Chungha to the next painting.

“I know you’re hiding something,” the crowned princess murmured, without looking at him, once they were walking on the street’s cobblestones again. The people were still crowding them from a respectful distance, but watching their every move, anticipating each of their words, or actions.

Seonghwa looked at his sister, stunned, a lump growing in his throat. “Of… Of course, I am sure you are, as well, we all have secrets,” the prince eventually pretended to have no idea what Chungha was talking about.

They were both staring ahead, the princess looked unchanged, while the prince was struggling to keep his facade on.

“Oh! I want to go inside this shop! I’ve been wishing for new jewelry,” Chungha exclaimed again, a childlike gleam in her eyes, startling Seonghwa again – his heart picked up in his chest, when she tugged on his arm to go inside the jeweler’s Seonghwa had come to visit in the first place. “I don’t know who it is you keep hiding, but the least I could do would be to prevent rumors from emerging that our dear prince has a lover. Our father wouldn’t be so pleased to hear that,” she whispered – and Seonghwa felt his ears buzz as if bees were swarming his head.

“How…”

“Overheard you with Hongjoong,” Chungha finally raised her charming eyes to lock eyes with her brother, and smiled with something that looked like sadness.

When they came inside the shop, Hongjoong was talking to a man of his height, and who sported a dimpled smile on his sharp features. Seonghwa immediately recognized him as San, whom he heard a lot about from the tailor whose services he often asked, Wooyoung.

Seonghwa knew Wooyoung was friendly with Yeosang, because they came from the same kingdom, and indeed the prince had immediately noticed their similar accent. Following a misunderstanding that had led Seonghwa to think his tailor had been flirting with his attendant, Yeosang had informed him about Wooyoung’s life partner, who was an apprentice jeweler.

The jeweler’s eyes widened when the siblings entered the shop, immediately bowing. “I hope you are having a pleasant afternoon in the capital, Your Highnesses,” he said, his voice quite stable, but slightly high-pitched, revealing his nervousness, which made Chungha snicker behind her hand.

“Very pleasant, thank you. I will be looking around, Seonghwa… I’ll leave you to your matters.”

The crowned princess wandered off, and Seonghwa walked closer to the counter.

“His Highness has a request for you, but it has to stay secret, as I mentioned earlier,” Hongjoong told San, and the latter nodded, blinking curious eyes at the prince. “How come Her Highness knows?” the musician then asked for Seonghwa.

The prince shrugged, sighing a little. “She said she overheard us.”

Hongjoong nodded, wincing, probably thinking the same thing as the prince – if she had overheard them, it meant that Seonghwa had been too reckless, just like Yeosang had scolded him the evening before. It worried him, even if he trusted Chungha, the more people knew, the more it felt like the noose was tightening. Rubbing his eyes, he decided to put these thoughts for later, focusing on the smaller man waiting for his instructions in front of him, who looked quite confused with his eyes traveling between the prince and the musician.

_*_

_“Sometimes, I catch myself wishing for us to become green lights.”_

_Seonghwa turned confused eyes towards Yeosang. “Like fireflies?”_

_It was a hot summer night, there was barely any wind to relieve them from heat, as they were lying side to side on a smooth boulder bordering the river. They had sneaked out of the palace for another nocturnal escapade, laughing behind their sleeves, playing around like children in the desert corridors, drunk on this peculiar summer breeze that made everyone feel free._

_They had ridden Edelweiss to the royal woods, barely worrying about possibly getting caught if anyone else happened to be wandering in the sleeping palace, and hadn’t hesitated once when they hurriedly got rid of their nightclothes, before jumping into the refreshing river. The servant had shouted, his chest shaking with uncontrollable laughter that mirrored the prince’s, when the freshwater was surprisingly colder than he had expected, splashing Seonghwa when he wouldn’t stop mocking him._

_They had only dared to exchange chaste kisses up to that time. However, when Yeosang’s giggles slowly died down on his lips, Seonghwa had suddenly become aware of his own grip around his attendant’s wrists – that he had caught to prevent any more splashing – and realized it was the first time their skin touched. Yeosang was looking up at him through his dark lashes, his lips slightly parted and it took Seonghwa’s breath away, his heart burning so much all of sudden it put his entire being on fire, when his eyes fell on Yeosang’s naked skin all against his._

_Naked, their legs entangled, their bodies still buzzing with the remains of pleasure, they found themselves watching the stars. Yeosang’s head was resting on Seonghwa’s arm, looking up at the stars, while the elder was scrutinizing his lover’s peaceful features, with a slight frown._

_Yeosang chuckled, brushing the tip of his fingers on Seonghwa’s chest. “Not like fireflies. Like aurora. Green lights said to be god-sent gifts for people who survived hardships. I wish one day, we can find our own aurora.”_

_On this summer night, they had yet again run away from a golden jail, under a sky that had many sparkly eyes watching upon them, Yeosang told Seonghwa about one of his only memories from the cold lands where he was born._

_*_

Seonghwa was alone in his room. The same strange buzz that came with every important event was once again making him feel entirely numb – and this particular feast made him even tenser than any other official event. He wasn’t naive, even if there had been no talk about marriage yet with his father, he knew that the king hoped that suitors would court him during the banquet and that Seonghwa would choose one of them. Except that the prince had no intention of considering any of the ladies and lords that would try to charm him tonight as a potential spouse.

“It’s going to be fine, it’s not the first time you’ve been put in this situation,” Seonghwa whispered for himself, taking a deep shaky breath, before getting up from his armchair, only covered by a silk robe as he was waiting for the tailor to arrive with his suit, and slowly went out on his balcony.

The balcony overlooked the edge of the forest – he deeply inhaled again, in hope to smell the pinewood from here, in vain. The prince didn’t know why, but despite his determination to simply act clueless about the marriage prospects his father held, he was anxious about an invisible threat that he felt hanging above his and Yeosang’s heads. He laid his palms flat on the balcony’s stone handrail and breathed out, trying to soothe his vertigo.

An ominous wind was blowing, bringing with it clouds charged with electricity.

He had no idea how much time passed, while he was standing there with his eyes closed and hoping that the cold wind would also bring the pinewoods’ scent with it to relieve his tension, when a series of knocks startled him out of his daydreams.

“Come in,” he authorized, watching from the balcony’s entrance the doors open to reveal Yeosang with Wooyoung in tow, his arms full with what he guessed were his formal wear for the banquet.

“Greetings, Your Highness, allow us to get you ready for the feast,” Yeosang said, both him and Wooyoung bowing as the doors closed behind them.

Seonghwa’s only answer was to step back into the room with a hum, his eyes riveted to Yeosang’s delicate face. He wanted to go to him, greet him with a kiss, but instead, he swallowed down his desire, eventually diverting his eyes. “Rise,” he said with a dull voice.

“Should I close the windows, Your Highness?” his attendant asked as Seonghwa was untying his robe, shivering a little as the breeze made the linen curtains flutter, while Wooyoung was lying the prince’s clothes on the bed covers.

The prince turned his eyes towards the balcony, meeting Yeosang’s gaze and folding his hands into tight fists as he noticed the servant’s dark look on his body, and then cleared his throat. “Yes. Ah, could you also ask the kitchens to bring me some passionflower tea?” he eventually said, turning his back to the tailor again, but not missing a slightly worried pout on Yeosang’s face.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Seonghwa did feel the need to relieve his anxiety, but his request had been more of an excuse to get his lover out of his room. Smiling tiredly at Wooyoung who was watching him with a curious look, he thanked him for the shirt he was handing to him. “Did San give you the necklaces?”

The tailor nodded, as he was buttoning the prince’s shirt. Seonghwa felt that Wooyoung wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to speak, when he handed the jewelry box and quietly watched the prince open it.

It was breathtaking and made Seonghwa gape; from the shiny golden chains to the precision of two identical red, purple and green pendants – it made his heart jump with joy in his ribcage, ready to shatter his bones. The pendants’ shape could be mistaken with a flower, a simple scarlet pearl – a rare treasure that could only found in the kingdom of Mars’s rivers – at the center of what looked like a cloud of mostly green diamonds, with a few discreet purple stones, each stone bonded together with the most delicate golden hoop.

“I hope it is to Your Highness’s liking, I did my best to help San convey Pluto’s lights with the stones,” Wooyoung said, his accent stronger than Yeosang. The prince had specifically chosen San to craft the jewels, because he knew that the man’s husband had seen the lights with his own eyes.

Seonghwa nodded, unable to divert his eyes from the masterpieces he was holding in his suddenly weak hands. “It is… perfect,” he could only praise in the end, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“I was surprised to hear that Your Highness found interest in our dear Auroras,” Wooyoung commented, with his eyebrows raised but a friendly smile. Seonghwa couldn’t find it in himself to worry about anything anymore, a bright smile suddenly erasing his earlier forlorn look.

When the royal family was announced into the large ballroom, the crowd fell silent, anticipating their appearance, from where they were standing in the large and luxurious ballroom.

The king was a step ahead of his heirs, tall and imposing. His presence commanded respect, and it was natural when not a single soul in the crowd dared not to bow before him; his shoulders seemed even broader by the golden epaulets on his long velvet cape, and his height was enhanced by the heavy crown he wore with his head held high as if it weighed nothing.

As the king was taking powerful strides to the throne, the crowned princess Chungha, at her fiance’s arm, and prince Seonghwa were walking with a calmer pace, greeting with poised attitudes all the noble families that had been invited to the banquet. The siblings were truly outstanding, next to each other, both in similar formal wear. Their white suit coats were embroidered with subtle silver threads, drawing meticulous shapes in the luxurious fabric that, despite its sobriety, made their rank undeniable. As well as the red sashes they were wearing over the shoulder, that only the members of the royal family were allowed to wear. The crowned princess had her long black hair tied on top of her head, and the colorful gemstones of her tiara and earrings were the only ostentatious items she was wearing. The princess and the prince’s formal gear was completed by the swords tied at their waist, proofs of their military rank.

If the guests standing under the frescos painted on the palace’s vaulted ceiling were wearing much more extravagant ensembles, the eyes were indeed more attracted to the royal family’s dignified presence.

The feasts in the kingdom of Mars traditionally began with a short reception in the ballroom, until the doors to the banquet hall were opened to the guests. The feast then offered the most refined dishes that could be found in the kingdom, and allowed the King’s court to give in to their gluttony, as well as inebriation, the palace servants making sure to never leave those lords and ladies’ crystal glasses empty.

Seonghwa was standing straight at his father’s side, watching with unseeing eyes the crowd moving under them. He had often wondered when he was younger, if he would have found pleasure in these large gatherings, if only he had at least had the freedom to get lost in this crowd of noblemen and women.

“You’re losing that smile,” Chungha whispered into his ear, slightly nudging him, and bringing him back in the ballroom. The prince realized that he must have been looking more like he was wincing than anything else, and forced himself to smile wider.

He had always found these events to be so long, but this particular event felt never-ending, and the banquet hadn’t even started yet.

He was looking around to find a familiar face, when a family approached and bowed at the bottom of the few stairs that separated the royals from their subjects, and the head of the family introduced his eldest daughter. Seonghwa inwardly sighed, knowing that a long series of young sons and daughters would be introduced to them as if they were objects instead of subjects, subtly hoping that the prince would show interest in any of them.

Seonghwa was doing a good job at remaining courteous while not sending unfortunate signals, until the lord Im that he had already met a few weeks ago came forward, by himself, kneeling with his head down but his arms stretched forward to present to them a small luxurious transparent box, its lid open to show off an impressive dagger laid on a blue cushion.

“I thought about His Highness the Prince Seonghwa when I came across this beautiful dagger,” the man said with a clear voice.

The prince gasped a little, overwhelmed, as the crowd suddenly became all silent. For a few seconds, only the peaceful music coming from the orchestra playing in one of the ballroom’s balcony could be heard; then stunned murmurs rose. If everyone knew the reason of this event was to court the youngest prince, it wasn’t official enough that someone would dare to come forward and let their intention to ask his hand in marriage be publicly known; yet Lord Im had offered a dagger to Seonghwa, as was the custom in Mars.

Seonghwa turned his astonished eyes to his sister, who appeared to be just as bewildered, and then to his father, and felt dizzy when he noticed the small satisfied rictus on his lips. He was unable to speak and struggled to put his neutral facade back on when the king locked eyes with him.

The father and son simply stared at each other for almost a full minute, while the crowd was becoming restless, the king’s eyebrows raised as he was waiting for him to answer. Eventually, the prince swallowed with difficulty and turned back toward the lord kneeling before them, ignoring the obnoxious ringing in his ears.

He couldn’t even bear to look at the mesmerizing dagger that was presented to him, almost blinded by the blade’s brightness and the gemstones encrusted in the handle. Lord Im was sporting a confident smirk, and even if Seonghwa knew the man to be pleasant company, he couldn’t help but unreasonably find him repulsive at that moment.

“The handicraft is quite impressive,” Seonghwa finally said, his voice slightly weak, making him wince. He didn’t ask Lord Im to dance with him thus not accepting his proposal, but having no choice to imply he would consider it by accepting the gift for now, if he didn’t want to risk publicly offending one of the most important Duke of the kingdom.

He felt like he could breathe again only when a palace servant took the box away and Lord Im stood up once again, the crowd resuming to its previous state as if this surprising turn of event was already only a memory. Fortunately, no other families dared to come forward.

The beginning of the feast was announced shortly after, the doors opening to reveal an even larger hall where multiple round tables were abundantly filled with gourmet dishes. If the ballroom was certainly beautiful, the banquet hall was even more luminous, with the huge crystal chandelier hanging over their heads, making the silverware shine even more splendidly.

The largest table was the royal family’s table, where was also seated the closest parties to them. Seonghwa eventually felt his muscles relax when he took a sip of his favorite wine, turning his gaze towards the Duke of the Song domain, who was sitting next to him, as the head of the most important duchy of the kingdom of Mars. They were quite close, having grown up together at the court, with the same private tutor.

“It’s been such a long time,” the prince smiled at his friend, relieved to see him here since Hongjoong couldn’t be seated with him. “I wasn’t aware you were back at the court. And who is it?”

Mingi’s eyes almost disappear as his face was illuminated by the charming and unique beam that had always made him look like kind and natural to him. “Your Highness, may I introduce you to my fiance, Yunho, heir of the Jung county in the kingdom of Saturn?”

The prince widened his eyes and then chuckled, turning his surprised gaze to look at Mingi’s fiance.

“It’s a pleasure to meet Your Highness,” Yunho said with a grin, and Seonghwa was immediately pleased by his physiognomy, just as friendly as his childhood friend.

A couple of long hours passed before desserts were brought to the tables, and despite having found a great distraction within Mingi and Yunho, the prince felt tired and was keeping an eye out for the best timing to leave without anyone noticing.

Seonghwa brought his fork to his mouth, taking his time to finish the sweet strawberry pie on his plate, watching the way wine seemed to be taking over the guests, but most importantly the king. A cheerful and drunk on food and alcohol hubbub had invaded the large banquet hall.

Guests had started to leave their chairs to have a talk with other acquaintances, the heads of the multiple families that had been invited, getting more and more distracted. His father’s entire attention was turned towards his right-hand woman, his usual strict frown even looked less serious and more relaxed. And Chungha was listening to her fiance with her usual soft grin, seemingly made a little sleepy by the wine she was sipping on.

The prince discreetly got up and slipped out of the room, while no one noticed him.

He wanted to go back to his apartments, where hopefully Yeosang would be waiting for him. He had missed him, so used to have him by his side all the time, and mostly because he couldn’t stand to imagine the worry that could have been busying his lover’s mind all evening. But he decided to go on a short walk in the garden, the wind having subdued into a gentle breeze, needing to relieve his body from the stifling pressure that had come with the feast, all these noblemen and women who crowded, watched him, expecting of him to be exactly what they had imagined of him, and the lord whose intentions were crystal clear.

As Seonghwa was walking through the dark garden, with only a few torches along the path lighting to guide him, he thought that only Yeosang had made him feel like himself, and not the simple reflection of what people wanted him to be.

With his head in the clouds, he continued to walk through the garden’s path, finding peace in the smell of melted candles blended with the ever-changing scent, always so much stronger past the dusk, of the botanical garden; until he reached the large fountain at the labyrinth’s entrance and recognized a familiar figure watching the ripples at the water’s surface. “Yeosang? What are you doing here?” he asked, when he was near enough for the attendant to hear him without raising his voice.

Yeosang startled, but didn’t turn around to face Seonghwa. “Just enjoying the garden while everyone is busy with the banquet, Your Highness.” The servant’s voice was soft, but a little strained.

The prince took a step forward, kneeling at Yeosang’s feet to take his hand in his, even if his lover’s gaze was still riveted to the colorful fish swimming in the pond. “Are you feeling unwell?” Seonghwa asked against the back of Yeosang’s glove, eyeing his face.

He couldn’t really see which emotion painted his lover’s face, only able to make out his strong jaw and the large shadow his long lashes cast on his cheeks, hiding his gaze from his sight. For a long moment, the attendant didn’t reply and the only noise between them was the flow of the transparent water falling from the mouth of the lion bronze statue standing in the middle of the pool.

“I’ve heard this lord offered you a valuable present,” Yeosang’s voice was so quiet when he eventually started speaking, so full of sad resignation. Seonghwa felt like the dagger he had been gifted earlier was now stabbing him, as his lover faced him and squeezed his hand back. “I guess this is only a matter of time, now.”

He had been ready to protest but his words died on his lips when he was met with his lover’s red-rimmed eyes. Seonghwa could only jump to his feet and catch the servant’s arm to force him up. He exhaled a shallow sigh and looked around, before pulling Yeosang with him inside the labyrinth.

“Your Highness, what are you doing? You should go back…” the attendant yelped with surprise, when his lover pulled him along. He widened his eyes when the prince suddenly stopped to face him and cupped his face once they were hidden by the bush walls.

“I will refuse it, I will return the present,” he breathed out, bumping the tip of their noses, that made a beautiful shade of red bloom on Yeosang’s cheeks, which Seonghwa could feel burn under his palms.

“Won’t it offend the Lord?” the servant asked, his voice still unsure, but he wrapped his large hands around the prince’s wrists, rubbing the tip of his fingers on the back of the prince’s ones.

“I don’t care, I… Come with me.” Seonghwa’s frown was suddenly replaced by an ecstatic smile when he tugged Yeosang further into the labyrinth, making him yelp with surprise again, wondering what had taken over the prince, making all his gloominess of the past few weeks seem like a distant memory.

“Your Highness, Your Highness!” Yeosang panted behind the prince, confused by this act, but laughter bubbling in his chest. Seonghwa briefly turned around and winked, silently asking for Yeosang to trust him. “Seonghwa, are you drunk?” the attendant teased in the end, the prince’s careless behavior contagious, prompting a burst of laughter from the person of interest.

They finally reached the labyrinth’s heart, and Seonghwa crashed their lips together as soon as they stopped under the willow tree, hiding behind this curtain of leaves. “I have something for you,” the prince whispered against Yeosang’s mouth, making the latter quirk an eyebrow.

Without parting, one arm remaining around the smaller man’s waist, Seonghwa reached a hand past his sash, into his coat, to get a simple black box out of his inner pocket, giving it to Yeosang. The latter’s eyes traveled from the box to his lover’s gaze, confusion creasing his forehead.

“What is it?” he asked, however not daring to take it into his hands.

“I don’t know, open it,” Seonghwa laughed, leaving a kiss on the attendant’s skin to smooth his forehead down, before stepping back and forcing the box into his hands.

He couldn’t wait to see Yeosang’s reaction, he hoped he would love it as much as he did.

The prince knelt at his attendant’s feet again, as he sat down on the bench to open the box, an anticipatory beam on his face. And he wasn’t disappointed.

It looked like Yeosang’s breath was taken away by utter shock, his mouth gaping as his eyes were suddenly pooling with clear tears. “Seonghwa, I…” The attendant shakily put the opened box down next to him to cup Seonghwa’s face with both hands, sniffling a little.

The prince’s grin widened. “There are two of them, one for you and one for me… forever you’ll have me by your side, like so. Do you like it?”

Yeosang’s nodded with a wet chuckle, kissing the corner of his mouth twice. “I love it. I… I almost feel like you’re asking me to marry you…” Seonghwa closed his eyes when Yeosang rested his forehead against his, delicately taking the servant’s hands to remove his gloves.

“Let me put it on for you.”

Seonghwa got up, taking one of the necklaces into his hands, while Yeosang slightly turned around to give him more access to his neck, touching the beautiful pendant with the tip of his now bare fingers.

“I commissioned Wooyoung’s lover, because I remembered Wooyoung comes from your homeland,” Seonghwa murmured, feeling a little shy as he told out loud the amount of care he had put into this. “I want that when we both see these pendants, we can feel that if one thing is real and won’t ever change is the sincere love I hold for you, and hopefully you do, as well.” The prince winced a little when he heard how his voice cracked with a lack of confidence, but timidly smiled as Yeosang faced him again, giggling, his lashes a little wet.

Yeosang took the other necklace and without a word, clasped it around the prince’s neck, bringing their bodies impossibly close, almost leaning across Seonghwa’s lap. The latter’s heart was hammering and his eyes were burning, making his lashes flutter as he couldn’t take his gaze away from Yeosang’s dazzling beam.

“Seonghwa…” the servant whispered, against his cheekbone, wrapping his arms around the prince’s neck, having entirely forgotten that they were still inside their golden jail. “Seonghwa, I love you.”

Seonghwa’s throat was hurting, a lump blocking his airway that felt like both a sob and laughter. He was tingling everywhere, from his tiptoe, the crook of his elbows, to the joints of his fingers; never again he wanted to be brought back from this euphoria he felt, from this dream.

Squeezing Yeosang harder against his chest, he kissed him like it was the only way to catch his breath back, like it was their last kiss, like his life depended on it; and Yeosang kissed him back just as hard, entangling his bare hands in the prince’s black locks, disheveling his perfectly done hair.

Too engulfed in their own passion, they stayed oblivious to the sound of angry voices, quick strides across the garden, and an incoming doom.

_*_

_“Your Highness…” Yeosang called, making Seonghwa raise his eyes from the book he had been reading out loud, locking eyes with his servant, whose brown irises seemed even deeper than usual. His breath, usually so quiet next to him, was rapid and shallow, and he was rubbing his gloved hands on his thighs, as if to wipe clammy palms._

“ _Yeosang? Are you feeling unwell?” the prince asked, with wide eyes, putting the book down, alarmed._

“ _It’s just… allow me to make an offensive confession…” Yeosang requested, and Seonghwa nodded, worried, and anxious._

_The prince watched, helpless, distress crease his servant’s long and thin eyebrows; his wheat bangs were framing his face, looking like golden threads with the candles’ dim light, but didn’t hide his uneasiness. He had been jittery the whole evening, Seonghwa had noticed the small shake in his hands, or the way his voice had sounded choked at times, but it seemed to have worsened all of a sudden. He tightened his fists against his lap, keeping himself from reaching out to hold Yeosang’s face. He was aching, seeing how the attendant’s pupils, usually so full of mischief, were unfocused, how his lips, usually tugged up by a witty smirk, were trembling._

“ _I have inappropriate feelings for Your Highness, my heart…” Yeosang finally said, stunning the prince and rendering him even more speechless, “my heart, I feel like my heart will stop beating every time I find myself near you. I don’t think I can breathe ever again, if I stay shut…”_

_The attendant stopped speaking, seemingly too choked, his unfocused eyes still riveted to a gaping Seonghwa’s face._

“ _Even though I tried my best, I just can’t ignore how I love Your Highness.”_

_*_

“What is this?” a loud voice resounded in the garden and the lovers parted distraught, hastily turning towards the entrance of the labyrinth’s center.

The king was standing there, looking giant and much more powerful than them with the anger that twisted his features, while Chungha was appearing behind him, seemingly out of breath, but her jaw made slack by shock.

“Prince Seonghwa, what were you doing just now?” Seonghwa’s father asked again, his voice rumbling in the garden like thunder, his eyes enraged eyes fixated on the servant instead of his son.

The prince tightened his arms around Yeosang when he noticed the latter’s lips tremble, and stood up to hide his lover from the king’s sight, despite his shaky legs.

“I was wondering where you had disappeared to,” the king almost growled, his eyes darkening when he saw the way his son stood straight in front of his attendant. “And you knew?” he turned an enraged look at Chungha, making her jump a little. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t say anything, her eyes going back and forth her brother and their father. “Seonghwa, come here. Guards! Take this man to the dungeons, he will be exiled from the kingdom tomorrow.”

“No!”

Seonghwa had taken a step forward, ready to bow down to his knee, when Yeosang caught his hand and silently kept him from protesting. The prince looked with a crazed glint in his pupils at the attendant, unable to handle the thought of being separated from Yeosang.

The servant slowly got up under everyone’s eyes, keeping his head down. “Your Highness, it had to eventually happen,” Yeosang whispered as he stepped forward, making Seonghwa helplessly mute. He could only watch him walk away and palace guards promptly approach him, feeling like he had been cast a dizzy spell.

“Seonghwa, come here!” the king commanded with a harsh tone, as his son had yet to move. Seonghwa glanced at his family where they were waiting at the entrance, Chungha looking as dazed as him, slowly blinking the scene, before he turned his eyes back to Yeosang’s back and saw the guards brutally take a hold of his arms. It jolted him awake from his stupor and he jumped ahead, pulling Yeosang back from the guards’ grips.

“No! I said No!” Seonghwa yelled, desperate, and he met his father’s heated glare. “If you dismiss Yeosang, I’m leaving as well!”

It seemed to make the king even more furious, as the guards stood motionless and dumbfounded next to the couple, fearing to be disrespectful by pulling them apart, as they had no right to touch the prince. Seonghwa stood firm to his ground, never diverting his eyes from his father, squeezing Yeosang’s hand, who was anxiously looking up at his lover, his free fingers’ grasping the pendant Seonghwa had just gifted him.

“If I have to lock you inside your apartments until the day I find a family willing to marry the disgrace you are, I will!” the king hollered, his face becoming as red as his cape and a vein popping on his wrinkled forehead.

Yeosang gasped next to him, frightened by the madness that twisted the king’s features and by his threat. Seonghwa’s breath caught, his eyes pooling with tears, but he only tightened his grip on the attendant’s hand, as if to give himself enough courage.

“Please, Your Majesty, do not listen to my young master’s words,” Yeosang however pleaded, slipping away from Seonghwa’s hold and throwing himself at the king’s feet, fully bowing to him. “I beg Your Majesty to forgive him, it is my entire fault.”

“Yeosang, no!” the prince exclaimed, hurrying to the servant to keep him from bowing longer, but Yeosang struggled and pushed him away, making him fall flat on his back. When he sat up, his lover was still on his knees, his palms flat on the garden’s slightly damp grass, but he was looking back at him with a guilty look.

The servant turned his attention back to the king when he started speaking, looking down at Yeosang like he was dirt. “You will be banished from the kingdom for seducing Prince Seonghwa,” he said, his voice calmer but so cold it froze Yeosang on his spot, lowering his head and accepting his punishment.

“I won’t let you do that!” the prince shouted, frantic, just when Chungha finally stepped forward, her previous shock replaced with a determined frown.

“Please, father, have some mercy,” she said, her voice gentle, like a fresh breeze in the middle of a wildfire.

The king furrowed his eyebrows at her, as the crowned princess approached Yeosang, putting her delicate fingers on his shoulders, making him stare up at her, his lips parted, and she encouraged him up.

“They have done nothing wrong,” Chungha affirmed to her father, and Seonghwa slowly rose to his feet, joining Yeosang’s side.

“Crowned princess Chungha, step away, you are not ruling over this kingdom yet! Seonghwa’s duty is to ensure the expansion of our resources!”

“Father, are you willing to become a tyrant just to make us even more powerful? Aren’t you the one who taught me that our people’s well-being is more important than wealth?”

The king only looked more vexed, the vein on his forehead pulsing harder.

Yeosang had both hands wrapped around his necklace, watching worriedly the back and forth between the crowned princess and the king, while Seonghwa was draped over his back, his hands gripping his shoulders hard with anxiety. “It’s fine, we’re going to be fine,” the prince mouthed against the back of his lover’s head, closing his eyes, and hoping that his sister would succeed to make their father come back to his senses.

“Stop saying nonsense, you both come back with me, guards take this man away!”

“Seonghwa and Yeosang are also your people!” Chungha finally blurted out. “Their well-being is more important than wealth as well! You can’t send Yeosang away and lock your son away, just because they won’t make our kingdom richer!”

There was a moment of hesitation, where Seonghwa could only stare, dumbfounded, at his sister, impressed by her determination to protect him and Yeosang. He hadn’t noticed how cold he had been feeling, until his whole body warmed with the gratitude he felt towards the crowned princess. In his arms, Yeosang let a shaky breath out.

The king stayed silent for a long instant, and Chungha held his icy glare.

“Well then, if banishment is unfair, we can at least agree that if they both serve no more purpose at the court,” the king eventually conceded, facing his son back, “you are both dismissed from the palace, starting tomorrow.”

“I…” Chungha trailed off, unable to think of anything else to say.

“What…” Yeosang whispered, but Seonghwa only gritted his teeth, stepping back.

Under everyone’s eyes, the prince untied the sword fixed at his waist and then removed his royal sash, throwing both items at the king’s feet, looking right into his eyes. They looked quite alike, their strong brows framing their almond-shaped eyes in the same way, but the identical cold gleam in their eyes made them look more like enemies than a father and a son.

“Farewell then, father.”

And Seonghwa softly took Yeosang’s hand in his, who bowed his head at Chungha before following the deposed prince out of the labyrinth, lowering his eyes when they passed by the angry king.

Seonghwa muffled a pathetic sob, pressing the palm of his hand over his mouth. He didn’t want to cry, especially when in the end he had obtained what he wanted, freedom, and the right to spend his life at his lover’s side. However, he couldn’t help the melancholic ache in his heart, as he packed his most precious belongings.

And he was frightened. He had no idea what he could do, who would shelter a deposed prince and his lover? Seonghwa swallowed the lump in his throat, letting go of the cloth he was holding to press his palms against his eyes, until luminous spots danced behind his closed lids.

He startled when two soft knocks echoed in the room and frantically rubbed his eyes, as he heard the doors opened. Turning around he was met with his sister’s apologetic gaze and despite his will to look strong and proud, his face crumpled at her sight.

“Oh, Seonghwa…” she said, her voice full of empathy, as she took quick strides to meet him, protectively wrapping her arms around her little brother. Seonghwa hugged her back, looking almost smaller than her.

“I’m going to ruin your clothes,” he croaked out against her shoulder, and she simply laughed, stroking his head.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” Chungha apologized, and Seonghwa sighed, squeezing her thin frame harder against himself.

“Thank you for doing everything you could, I… I don’t know what we’re going to do, but at least I get to stay with Yeosang, it’s more than I thought possible,” he said, finally stepping back from her embrace and weakly smiling at her.

Seonghwa looked even more disheveled next to the crowned princess, her tiara still neatly holding her hair up, her sash over her shoulder, and her sword still tied at her waist. He thought they painted a sad picture, at that moment.

“Listen, after you left I went back with father at the banquet hall and found Lord Song,” Seonghwa frowned at Chungha, as she dusted off imaginary dirt off his coat, “he doesn’t see any issue in leaving earlier and taking you and Yeosang with him to his duchy. Hongjoong also said you could go to his family’s castle, since he’s always traveling but…” the crowned princess trailed off and hesitated. Seonghwa was shocked to hear this news, relieved and even more grateful to his sister and his two childhood friends. “Don’t go too far yet, I will try to convince father, alright?”

He could only nod, and wordlessly engulf her back in a strong clasp. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do, you are my little brother, hm? And it’s only temporary, I will manage to convince father. And if I can’t, one day I will be the one to rule over this kingdom,” Chungha finished with a small laugh, and Seonghwa felt incredibly warm.

The doors suddenly opened to reveal Yeosang with a small bundle over his shoulder. “Ah, you don’t know how much I dreamed of opening this door without knock- oh.”

Yeosang’s face turned as red the crowned princess’s sash, before he hurriedly bowed three times. “I’m sorry, Your Highness I was out of place,” he stumbled over his words, embarrassed.

Chungha loudly laughed.

That night for the first time, Yeosang and Seonghwa shared a bed, reveling in the feelings of each other’s skin and the silk of the bedsheets covering them, as they weren’t willing to let go of the other, as if this newly found freedom was only a dream. They made the most of this last night in their golden jail.

*

A delicate orange sunbeam was filtering through the thick curtains, accidentally left ajar, painting the bedroom in warm hues. Seonghwa struggled to open his eyes, blinded by this thin thread of light that had been enough to wake him up. His ears picked up the faint noise of quill pen against off-white paper and Seonghwa’s gaze fell on the Yeosang’s figure. His lover was in a thin and loosely tied shirt; its billowy sleeves swallowed his frame, yet the large collar, left open, revealed strong shoulders. Yeosang was slouching on his chair, his legs gathered against himself, the sole of his feet flat on the seat, but Seonghwa couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and scold him that he would hurt his back, feeling his lips being tugged up by a sincerely happy beam, as he was silently watching Yeosang act this comfortable.

He kept quiet, content with staring at his lover lean forward to grab an apple in the fruit basket at the center of the ebony table and absentmindedly take a bite of it, focusing back on the letter he was writing. Seonghwa couldn’t see Yeosang’s lips, but he could guess the way he grazed his tongue over the skin of his red apple to catch a droplet of juice, the way his lips puckered as he chewed, just by watching the movements of his sharp jaw, the shadow that the strong bone drew under his ear. Seonghwa hummed, imagining the sweet taste of his lover’s mouth.

“Are you awake?” Yeosang’s voice echoed in the room, but he didn’t turn around, still writing his letter. Probably to Wooyoung.

“What is the news?” Seonghwa only said, raising himself on his elbow and resting his cheek on his palm, the bedsheets slipping as he moved and revealing the expanse of his bare chest. He stared at Yeosang take another bite of his apple, while his free hand caught the pendant of his necklace that had made him shiver by brushing his skin when he had moved.

Yeosang put his quill pen down and got up to join his lover on the bed. If he was a pleasure to watch from the back, he was breathtaking from the front. His wheat-colored hair had grown longer and curlier in the past few weeks they had been staying at Mingi’s castle, framing his cheeks that had become fuller and more colorful, a gorgeous blend of sun-kissed skin and a constant healthy blush on his high cheekbones. Yeosang jumped on the large bed, a sealed letter in one of his hands, diving into Seonghwa’s open arms, and then he once again took a bite of the apple, before bringing it to Seonghwa’s mouth, who hummed at its sweetness.

“San’s sister is pregnant so Wooyoung says the house is in chaos,” Yeosang said, with his mouth full. “And you received a letter from Her Highness.”

Seonghwa took the letter his lover was handing to him, opening it under Yeosang’s curious eyes. He quickly read it. His sister was mostly saying that their father had yet to change his mind, but that she wasn’t giving up, not any different from her previous letters. She then proceeded to retell a few funny anecdotes that had happened while he wasn’t at the court. Once Seonghwa finished reading the short letter, he put it aside on the bed and wrapped both arms around Yeosang’s shoulder, while the latter rested his head over his chest. “Nothing?”

Seonghwa shook his head, nuzzling his nose in Yeosang’s soft hair, chuckling when he heard him sigh. “Why? Do you want to go back to the court this badly?” he teased, grinning against the crown of his head.

“No, I’m just sad that you can’t see your family because of me…” Yeosang sighed again, biting in the apple and aggressively chewing.

Seonghwa raised his head, peering down at him. Yeosang was glaring at the wall in front of them, his thin eyebrows furrowed, looking petulant. He couldn’t help but kiss his temple, giggling.

“It’s not because of you, it’s because of my father’s stubbornness, hm? Besides, I’ve never been as happy as I am now…”

Yeosang stopped chewing and looked up, his long lashes making his deep brown eyes look even wider and darker. “Really?” he asked with a timid voice, after swallowing his bite.

After all, they hadn’t spent a single day apart ever since they had left the palace. If they mostly stayed at the castle, both of them often accompanied either Mingi or Yunho in the city. They had also been visited by Hongjoong and the infamous opera singer, Jongho a few days after they had settled in Mingi’s castle. Never once they had had to hide, never once Yeosang had had to bow to him, or call him anything else than his name or affectionate names.

“Hm, really,” Seonghwa breathed out, and he softly pecked Yeosang’s satisfied smile.

And quickly Yeosang was forgetting about his apple to devour Seonghwa’s lips, their hearts beating in harmony, both feeling the other’s necklace against their own chests. After having suffered, hopeless and helpless, for so long, the lightness they felt as they kissed without having anything to worry about, was a god-sent gift. In the end, they had reached together green lights that had sounded mythical and had gone beyond them, to live happily ever after.

“ _Can you tell me about the green lights?”_

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u enjoyed this tell me about your shitty coworker in the comments bye muah 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/mingiopom)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/etoilephilante)


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